Unrequited
by Kuroaki
Summary: Part Seven: Some street tennis courts fun with the SeiRu guys and An. Still crack.
1. Part One

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

****

The Unrequited Series: Part One

"Hoi, are you in this class too?"

Those beautiful dark blue eyes.

He didn't know when he'd started feeling this way. Was it the time when he'd first looked into those beautiful eyes? Or was it the time when he'd been glomped and been told "Fuji, you're the best friend in the world!"

Maybe it was both.

He snuck a sideways glance at his catlike friend seated at the desk next to this, the latter busy doodling in the margin of his notebook.

Sometimes, he thought, he felt like throwing it to hell and just confessing to the innocent child-like face, because maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

After all, he'd always proclaimed that his Fuji was the best in the world.

He'd always told Fuji how much he owed him for saving him from the countless evil questions that sensei always threw him.

He'd always said in that innocent, sweet way that only he could pull off: _"Fuji, we'll always be best friends nya?"_

Eiji wouldn't reject him now, would he?

The bell rang.

Eiji stood up and grinned at Fuji even as the sensei was yelling out last minute instructions about homework. "Fuji, I'm just going to go get a curry bun okay? Don't start eating without me!" Then he cheerfully bounced away.

He smiled at his best friend's retreating back.

"Oops, sorry," a classmate mumbled as he knocked into Eiji's desk in his haste to leave, sending Eiji's notebook to Fuji's feet.

"It's okay. I'll take it," Fuji said with an easy smile.

He continued smiling after he had bent down to pick up Eiji's book, which was opened to the page he had been doodling on.

And he smiled still, even when Eiji came back and blushed pink upon realising that his notebook was open and his doodles were free for the world to see. "E-eh? Fuji….you didn't see….did you?"

He had just smiled.

"Nya, don't tell anyone Fuji please? It's so embarrassing! Especially not…you know…"

And he'd still continued to smile.

"It's okay. I won't tell Oishi."

****

Owari

A/N: I need more ideas if this is to be a series. Any requests/suggestions?


	2. Part Two

****

Unrequited: Part Two

Ibu Shinji was a man of few words.

….

Okay, let's re-do that.

Ibu Shinji was a man of few words, unless he felt otherwise.

Which was why Kamio Akira was a little (just a little) surprised when his blue-haired friend suddenly asked him, "What do you think of Kaidou Kaoru?"

Kamio wasn't sure how to respond to that question, so he responded with another question.

"What?"

"I said," Shinji repeated patiently, "what do you think of Kaidou Kaoru?"

"….an antisocial pain in the ass?" Kamio offered.

Shinji offered a 'hmm' in return.

"Why're you asking?" Kamio asked.

Shinji shrugged and stopped in front of a shop window, expressing great (silent) interest in the grip tape displayed.

Guessing that all he would get from Shinji would either be dead silence or an incoherent mumble, Kamio pondered the nature of Shinji's question by himself. Was it because Shinji was interested in Kaidou and wanted to see if Kamio was okay with it?

Kamio wrinkled his nose. He didn't quite like that.

Or was it because he thought there was something going on between him and Kaidou, and being jealous, he wanted to make sure there was nothing between the two of them?

Ah. That was better.

Not that Kamio _liked _Shinji in that way, but…he'd rather Shinji want him than Shinji want Kaidou. Right?

Kamio tried to deduce other possible explanations. Maybe he wanted to play Kaidou, or something. Ask him to teach him the Boomerang Snake, maybe?

But the last time Shinji asked a similar question about Tachibana, he had ended up asking Tachibana out (and had gotten rejected).

And before that, he had asked the same question about An to Ishida because he thought Ishida 'might be cool, maybe I want to ask him out, you know, but I catch him looking all the time at An, and….'

So it was pretty much either he was interested of Kaidou, or jealous of him.

Kamio blinked as Shinji waved his hand in front of his face.

"I'm going already. Ja."

"E-eh..?" Kamio looked around him. Sure enough, they had (somehow without him realising) reached the junction where they always parted ways to get home.

Seeing that Shinji had been long eaten up by the crowd, Akira strolled in the opposite direction.

It wasn't long before he was passing through the park near the street tennis courts. The sun was setting and it would soon be dark, but Kamio wasn't in the mood to hurry home, nor did he have a reason to hurry home either.

Just as he was about to take out his Discman, he spotted a lone figure running in the distance.

The lone figure was running at pretty high a speed, so it wasn't long before Kamio realised it was the one Kaidou Kaoru.

Kamio didn't know why he was feeling a bit genial, but he greeted him with "Yo", and got a "Fsshhhuuu…" in return.

On a whim, Kamio turned around. "Want to play tennis?" he called out. He wasn't sure why he'd done that. Maybe he was still sore about that match he lost. Or maybe it had something to do with Shinji's question. (In what way whatsoever, he wasn't sure, but….maybe.)

Kaidou had slowed down and turned around a little uncertainly, as if he wasn't sure Kamio was actually speaking to him.

Kamio gestured to his tennis bag.

Kaidou grunted consent and they both trudged up to the street tennis courts, managed to find an empty court, and started to play a set.

__

xxxxxxxxx

Half-way home, Shinji stopped, and reversed his direction.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he knew that Kaidou would be running at the park at about this time.

Or maybe it didn't.

__

xxxxxxxxx

Kamio couldn't concentrate. There were too many random thoughts in his mind. Well they weren't exactly random, but definitely they had little to do with tennis, or with the game he was playing right then. It revolved around the fact that Shinji may or may not be interested in his bandana-wearing opponent.

Kamio kept finding himself checking Kaidou out, trying to see what was it about Kaidou that could have piqued his best friend's interest, even though he did make a concerted effort to focus on his game.

__

Maybe Shinji finds his antisocial attitude attractive. After all, Kaidou would hiss at his random mumbling, and Shinji wouldn't mind if it didn't really interrupt him. He did get a bit offended when Ishida told him to keep quiet on their first date.

Maybe it's his determination, or his aptitude and whatnot.

Maybe it's just his damn bandana.

Kamio suddenly snapped out of his reverie when he realised that Kaidou was walking away from the tennis court, towards the bench where they'd thrown their bags.

"O-oi!" he'd yelled from across the court. "What the hell are you doing?"

Kaidou glared at him. "You aren't even focusing on the game, you rhythm idiot!" he hissed. "Why the hell'd you ask me to play with you when you're not even playing properly? What a damn waste of time."

Kamio just glared at him because he knew it was true. He followed suit, walking towards the bench where Kaidou was seated, towelling his sweat.

Kamio sat on the bench and started to pack his things.

Then he realised that Kaidou was staring rather intently at him.

"What?" he asked irritatedly, feeling a little embarrassed as he felt his cheeks burn up.

__

Is that a blush I see on Kaidou's che- umphf.

__

xxxxxxxx

Strange. I thought he'd running here. He usually is. Not that I meet him or anything. Technically I do, just that he doesn't see me. Well of course he wouldn't, since I'm always strategically behind a tree or something. You know.

Maybe I'll just drop by the tennis courts. Maybe An-chan is there. Maybe she could give me good advice, like whether I should ask Kaidou out, or how should I do, it, and stuff. Girls are always good at this. Well, not that guys aren't good at it. I'm sure Kamio'd help me too, but he always was a bit on the loud side.

Hey, someone's sitting there. Two someones. Hmm, I wonder- oh.

xxxxxxxxx

As two boys remained in a tight liplock, another blue haired boy stared silently at them from behind the wired fence.

Then he quietly walked away.

****

Owari

A/N: Wow. I didn't know I would continue this unrequited series thing! But this just hit me in the showers.

I'm really really touched by the reviews I received from my previous one-shot, Promises, and the Dark. **I had a lot of fun writing it, and I'm glad you guys had fun reading it. Thank you so much, **Itifal, Risa-chan, Maria-chan, ariark, Hikari no Yami.

I didn't realise how many FujiEiji fans (like me!) around here, mainly because there aren't many FujiEiji fics- not that many, anyway. Hmm…I'll try my best to write some more of that if I get hit by inspiration, or something.

I didn't think I would get such a good response, so I'm really really touched. Thanks once again.


	3. Part Three

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The Unrequited Series: Part Three

"Hoi hoi Momo!" Eiji bounced cheerfully into the male tennis club's locker room. "Where's Ochibi nya? Is he cleaning again?"

"Mou, I don't know," Momoshiro answered his energetic senpai with an easy grin and a sweatdrop. "Ryoma doesn't tell me _everything, _you know."

"Well, nya," Eiji said, scrunching up his face cutely and looking upwards, "but it seems that way. You and Ochibi always hang out together. We wouldn't know who else to ask about Ochibi."

"Eiji! We're supposed to play a match!" Oishi's voice drifted in from the tennis courts outside.

Eiji jumped and eeped. "Unya, see you Momo! Cooooming, Oishi…." and the red-head was gone in a flash.

Momoshiro smiled and chuckled to himself. _Wouldn't know who else to ask?_

Well, that was true, he thought, preening a little. He was after all the closest regular to Echizen. Sure the first year didn't tell him _everything,_ but Momoshiro knew that at least Echizen told him _some _things, sometimes things that Momoshiro knew he wouldn't tell anyone else about.

And in return, Momoshiro listened to him, played the part of a good senpai, and occasionally treated Ryoma to burgers (which was actually pretty often, because that little brat always got his way. Damn.)

Of course, their relationship consisted of other things too, like arguing each other's heads off, slighting each other (especially on Ryoma's part - that snarky brat really didn't treat him as an upperclassman at all, Momoshiro thought, a little chagrined), and spending a lot of time together competing in exhausting tennis matches, either in the street tennis courts, or the court in Ryoma's backyard.

In that respect, Momoshiro felt pretty much privileged. He was sure he was the only outsider whom Echizen let play in his backyard tennis court.

Momoshiro couldn't help but smile gently thinking about the first year.

__

He'll need his tennis stuff once he gets here, the junior thought on a whim as his eyes rested on the all-too-familiar black tennis bag the freshman regular must have dumped into the room earlier. _I'll just put his stuff out for him._

Momoshiro opened the bag (he felt sure he was the one senpai Ryoma allowed to touch his precious belongings) and started to look for Ryoma's tennis gear.

__

Sheesh. What a messy little kid. Ah, there's his shirt. His racket…I wonder where his cap is though? Weird. Maybe he's wearing it, Momoshiro thought and smiled a private smile to himself, thinking about the (many) times he had whupped the cap off the black-haired head.

__

I don't know what I would do without that brat.

As he continued looking for the freshman's various tennis gear, Momoshiro felt his fingers close around an unfamiliar texture in the depths of the black tennis bag. His interest piqued, he took out what seemed to be a piece of cloth.

Momoshiro blinked as he examined it closely. He'd never seen Echizen wear it before. It seemed to be some kind of a headband.

__

Green? Echizen never wears green, Momoshiro thought as his nostrils detected the familiar whiff of Echizen's shampoo on the piece of cloth.

"Ah, konnichiwa desu!"

Startled, Momoshiro dropped the green headband into the black bag and straightened up.

The short black haired kid before him smiled happily. "Ah, Momoshiro-san! Sorry to suddenly intrude, desu. I'm just here to pick up Echizen-kun's things for him. Something came up and he won't be able to make it for practice today, desu. Would you tell the captain for him? Arigatou desu!"

"A-ah…" Momoshiro didn't know why his feet felt nailed to the ground, while at the same time, what felt like his lunch plopped into the deepest pits of his stomach. Probably it was the immense surprise at having Yamabuki's Dan Taichi suddenly appear at the Seigaku tennis club locker room - to pick up Ryoma's bag, no less.

Hearing Momoshiro's consent, the short freshman chirped a "Don't mind me, desu!" and walked further into the locker room. "Eeeh…" he mumbled as he walked towards the open bag in front of the second year, apparently not expecting to see Ryoma's belongings neatly laid out on the bench where the bag was.

"Oh…heh…I took those things out for Echizen because I thought he was going to need them when he came back," Momoshiro chuckled, scratching his head sheepishly. "I'll put them back for you."

"Ah, no need, desu! I wouldn't want to disrupt your practice desu. I'll be fine here, really," and the small boy insisted upon Momoshiro getting ready for his own tennis practice, desu.

Snapping out of his initial surprise as he watched Dan pack Ryoma's things, Momoshiro turned his back towards the thin freshman and started to rummage through his bag to look for his own tennis gear. _I'm going to run 20 laps if I don't hurry up, _he realised as he fumbled around in his bag hurriedly. _Yosh! All set._

He stood up and turned around, a thank you and a smile ready on his lips for the helpful Yamabuki freshman.

But the smile and the thank you never made it there, and something nailed him to the ground again.

This time he knew perfectly what, too – it was tender look on the freshman's face as he fingered a now-familiar green headband. It spoke volumes for the second year.

Momoshiro didn't think it possible, but his lunch plunged further through his guts.

Suddenly realising that he was being stared at by the second year, the Yamabuki freshman looked up and blushed, stuffing the headband into Ryoma's bag and zipping it up in one swift motion. "Ah! Gomen nasai! I have to go now, desu!" and hoisting both Ryoma's bag and his bag on his shoulders, he ran out.

Momoshiro blinked as something dropped out of Dan's own partially unzipped tennis bag.

He knew he should have called out to the Yamabuki freshman, but somehow his voice stuck in his throat.

He smiled sadly as he picked up the red and white Fila cap and put it next to his own tennis bag.

__

I'll just return it to him tomorrow. Good senpai, aren't I?

****

owari

A/N: Oh God. I don't know how this hit me. I was re-watching the Ryoma-Akutsu match.

RyoDan has always been one of my favourite pairings, other than RyoShinji. Who doesn't like RyoDan? It's too cute, desu!

Well, I hoped you enjoyed this one. I don't know why I can't really capture the essence of Momo in here. He's all serious-ish and stuff, I guess that must have been because one of the last things I watched was him getting booted off the regulars. So really sorry about that.

Umm, I'd still like to thank yoshikochan** and **RoYale** for reviewing the last chapter of this fic, and the other **Promises and the Dark** fic.**

To yoshikochan**: Thank you so much, and I would like to write a happy FujiEiji fic, but unfortunately my muse hasn't hit me in that direction. I'll try my best!**

To RoYale**: I think I'm running out of sensible love triangles. But I'll try my best!**

Thank you again for reading!


	4. Part Four

**Unrequited: Part Four**

Atobe gritted his teeth.

Jirou was sleeping _again._

Atobe usually didn't mind Jirou falling asleep randomly. Even though it was rather troublesome to keep having Kabaji pick – wake him up, Jirou's narcoleptic habits were - even though Atobe hated to admit it to himself, much less any one else – pretty damn cute.

But really, did he have to choose Oshitari's _lap _all the time?

Atobe could feel his eyebrow twitch as he decidedly turned his back to the sight of Jirou snoring on Oshitari's lap, the latter comfortably resting against a tree outside the courts at the far end.

"Hurry up!" he barked at the non-regulars who were running laps under his watch.

He was sure it wasn't just his imagination that Jirou had been dropping off at Oshitari's various body parts quite frequently these days.

In fact, he'd made a beeline for Oshitari almost as soon as practice –

Atobe shook his head quickly to try to clear all thoughts of Jirou and Oshitari doing…anything. It wasn't his problem. So what if Jirou preferred sleeping on Oshitari? (On, mind you. Not with.) It was his loss. It had nothing to do with Atobe. Although Atobe was sure that his lap was surely far more comfortable than Oshitari's stick limbs.

"Atobe, are you alright? Your face is kind of flushed even though you're just standing there-"

"Go get a water break!" he barked at the person who had dared interrupt his train of thought. Which turned out to be Taki, of all people. Taki looked surprised, but did not press the issue and simply left.

Atobe stole a glance at Oshitari and Jirou again.

_Good, Mukahi is there. Oshitari won't do anything with his wife around – what the hell?_

"20 more laps!" he barked at the non-regulars who looked as if they were almost done.

_I have better things to do than be bothered by such trivial things. _

_Besides, I don't give a damn about Jirou. _

_Nope. Not at all._

_xxxxxxxxxxxx_

Oshitari smiled serenely at Mukahi, who was gritting his teeth.

_Three….two….one…._

"Really, Yuushi!" Mukahi whined. "He's been sleeping on your lap _all week!_ There're a million other laps, not to mention places, where he can sleep!"

Oshitari just grinned and patted Jirou's head. "Let him be. He just needs somewhere to rest."

"Not your lap, he doesn't! And you encourage him!" _And that's my place! _Mukahi mentally screamed.

"Oh, be a little generous, Gakuto. He doesn't mean anything by it. He's harmless." Oshitari could not help but be amused at his Gakuto's jealousy.

"Why doesn't he sleep on Atobe?" Mukahi persisted. "He _adores _Atobe."

Oshitari shrugged. "I don't know, why doesn't he?"

Jirou suddenly shifted in his sleep, now lying on his side facing away from Oshitari, causing the doubles pair to look at him.

"Don't…wanna….be….rejected…" Jirou mumbled, loud enough for Mukahi to hear.

"Got your answer." Oshitari commented.

Mukahi's angry expression softened, and he merely turned and walked away, no longer demanding the orange-haired boy to give up his Yuushi's lap.

Oshitari chuckled softly to himself, and added yet another reason as to why he loved his Gakuto.

_xxxxxxxxx_

"10 laps for taking too long!" Atobe barked at poor Taki, who glared imperceptibly at the Hyoutei buchou before he went.

_Nope. I don't care if Mukahi leaves them both alone. Don't care at all._

**owari**

**A/N: Was inspired by Shiwase No Uta. My mind works in mysterious ways. **

**This isn't my usual love-triangle-unrequitedness. It's…two-way? Umm…I'm not really sure about the technicalities. **

**Thought that this might be the last one, but I can sense some St. Rudolph unrequited love in the air. Though I haven't even figured out _who. _Ideas are very welcome.**

**Right- I also want to thank **Risa-chan **for reviewing this fic, and **Kunai **for reviewing **Promises, and the Dark.


	5. Part Five

**Unrequited: Part Five**

Fuji woke up, as he always did.

It was dark. Like it always had been, for almost as long as he could remember

But it didn't mean that he had given up. Every day he drifted off to sleep, hoping that one day, when he woke up, it would no longer be dark.

So maybe the day wasn't today. It could be tomorrow.

And so what if it was dark? As long _ he _was by his side….

Fuji's ears perked up as he caught the sound of footsteps outside his room. On time, as usual. A buchou was never late for anything.

"Tardiness is not a trait of a good leader," he had once said, and Fuji remembered it clearly, as clearly as he remembered the back of his hand.

Fuji could feel him as he entered the room, as he faithfully had for the past three months, every day, at the same time. He felt him put his school bag beside the bed.

This was what Fuji woke up for.

Fuji felt him pull up a chair and sit next to him, as he always did. He waited with anticipation, wondering what stories he would tell him today.

"Evening, Fuji," he started, as he always did. "Eiji wanted to come today, but he's grounded because of his results, like he told you last week." A slight chuckle. "Well, as long as he's not thrown off the tennis team."

Tezuka rarely joked, and it made Fuij's heart swell with happiness.

"Anyway I've made Oishi help him with his school work. Eiji's first choice, but only after you, of course." A slight pause. "Kawamura says hello and that he'll drop by this weekend. As will the rest of the regulars, minus Eiji."

As he talked on, Fuji listened and remembered every word. He had many visits, but this was the visit he looked forward to every day. Nobody else's words mattered. Only his.

"Fuji…"

Suddenly his hand was warm. He was holding his hand. Fuji wanted to cry out. He wanted to respond. But no matter how much he willed his body to move-

"I miss you." His voice was deeper and husky with emotion. Fuji remembered his voice being that way only during one other occasion – when he had said-

"I still, and always will, love you."

_I love-_

"Remember that time when we were walking home and you had that crazy idea to go camping in the hills? I can't believe I went along with it, but you could make me do anything."

Deep in his throat, Fuji choked back his emotion.

"My parents nearly killed me after that, but it was worth it."

_They grounded me practically for life, but for you, it was worth it too._

"Remember Echizen's thirteenth birthday bash? I was amazed the police didn't come with sirens blasting."

_I wish we could go back to those days. _

Fuji could feel him smile sadly.

"I wish we could do that again. More than anything I want to wake up, and go to school and wait for you on the street corner for your sister to drop you off, and walk you to school and listen to you talk….Then I'd drop you off at class, and you'd say 'Ja ne' in that way only you could pull off…"

Fuji's chest hurt when he heard the grief in his voice. _We could! I'll wake up soon, Tezuka, you'll see-_

"Then we'd go to tennis practice together, and walk home and sometimes have dinner…I've been waiting for you to come back to me. Why won't you wake up?"

He wasn't crying, but his voice had changed from its usual deep tones. It was strangely high pitched, as if he was trying to swallow something while speaking at the same time.

"Fuji, I know I'm breaking my promise never leave you, Fuji. But you're leaving me too. The longer I wait, it feels as if you're slowly drifting apart from me. Sometimes, it feels like you've already left me a long time ago, and I'm the one who's trying to hold on to something that isn't there. Fuji, I'm only human."

_What are you-_

"When I think of him and I know he's with me, I feel…stronger. It feels as if I can continue living, even without you by my side."

_But I **am **by your side-_

"Fuji, everyone's moved on with their lives. I still love you but I want to move on with mine."

_Just a little longer-_

"Fuji, please forgive me."

Fuji felt something warm touch his forehead. He could still feel the warmth from Tezuka's touch. But his insides were freezing over.

…_..So three months was all you were willing to give me. You couldn't wait, in the end._

"Tezuka. The hospital is closing." The voice was far away, but Fuji could still hear it, and it killed him inside.

"I'm coming, Atobe." Then his hand was suddenly cold again, as Tezuka released it. "Good night, Fuji. Sleep well."

Fuji felt something warm fill his eyes.

_Were you even planning to wait at all?_

As he heard Tezuka leave, he suddenly realized that his cheeks were wet.

_Tezuka, look behind, look at me! I'm crying, I'm still alive…_

The door shut with a gentle click.

For a while, his pale cheeks shone wet with tears.

_So the day I see light won't be tomorrow, after all. _

Then the tears stopped flowing, and all was still.

**Owari**

**A/N: Not particularly satisfied with it. Probably because I made too many changes until it totally became …. soap-operaish. And Tezuka probably doesn't talk that much even if he was feeling sad. But hey, "buchou's character changes on Rajipuri" so let him have a little talktime, I figure. I don't think I wanna make Tezuka some sort of mind-reader or…something.**

**And well, I was inspired by some lame movie I was watching, and was listening to "Ache of My Heart" as well. **

**Remember, the series is DISJOINTED. Each episode has no connection whatsoever with the other. **

Venedy: **No continuation. Nevah. It's suppose to make everyone feel really really frustrated and want to throw things at me. Nyeh nyeh.**

Hikari no Yami: **Yep, I'm writing. But this may be it, because no matter how much I think, I just can't get a Seiru plot to start moving.**

Bloodblade: **Yep. Your, umm, TezuFuji? Does this count?**

**No other questions, so I'd just like to thank **Risa-chan, Royale**, and **Aeolus the Soul Hunter** for reviewing the previous chapter. (I thought replying to everyone might piss off. I don't know. Just..scared.)**

**Lastly, thanks **Kaia** for reviewing **Promises, and the Dark!


	6. Part Six

Part Six

It wasn't dark.

In fact, it was jarringly bright.

An tried to squeeze her eyes shut and go to sleep again, but it wasn't so easy to do. She'd done it about three times that morning, and she was awake for sure now.

She threw her covers off and dragged herself to the bathroom for a shower.

It felt normal.

_This is what life should be, _she mused. _Normal._

She dressed, and began to arrange the covers on her bed. She didn't feel like pulling the sheets off and straightening them properly, because she never had done it anyway.

"_A-to-be. Get off, you lazy oaf."_

_A grunt, and the lump snuggled deeper under the covers._

What was the point when it would get messed up again?

Yep. This was the routine.

She walked to the kitchen of the tiny apartment and switched on the coffee maker.

"_Is it ready yet?" Yawn._

"_Make your own coffee. My coffee is too unworthy for you to drink."_

"_Ore-sama does not appreciate that."_

This was how it had been.

In fact, it almost felt as if she had settled back into something that was truly her – a life that she had known ever since she had started college, unchanged and untouched by anyone.

While waiting for the coffee, she started walking around her apartment and throwing random things into her backpack for her lecture later.

"_Dammit, Atobe, where are my keys?"_

"_How would Ore-sama know?"_

"_You locked up last night!"_

_A smirk. "Well, considering the position we were in when we entered the apartment-"_

"_I don't have time for that, idiot!"_

The keys were hanging neatly on the hook she'd bought, specially for her keys. She had liked it then. She wasn't neat, but she had always liked some semblance of order in her life. Like being able to find her keys. Always.

"_What time are you coming back?"_

"_I don't know. I'm ending late. Don't wait."_

"_You said it then. I won't."_

_Snort. "Do whatever you want."_

With her backpack hoisted over her shoulder, and her keys in her hand, she rested her palm on the doorknob.

"_No goodbye kiss for Ore-sama?"_

_She blew a kiss. "That's good enough." _

_Then he was by her side in a flash, and what resulted always ended up in her being late for her lectures._

She really did miss her old life. It was nice to be An once more, the Tachibana An who did well for studies, who was smart, who loved tennis, who was a good girl who loved her family, and had many friends.

"_Admit it – you're in love with Ore-sama."_

_Snort. "You could leave, and I wouldn't care less."_

"_Ch'. I'll really leave one day, and you'll realize that I was right about you all along."_

"_What do you mean, you're right about me all along."_

"_You're too proud, Tachibana An."_

_Choke. "I'm too proud?"_

It was nice to be the Tachibana An who hated Atobe Keigo with a fervour.

She was determined not to let some things change.

owari

A/N: I've always wanted to do something with An in it. I'm the kinda crack lover who is absolutely convinced that YuutaAn would work, even though my only basis for that is that they just look good together. But I just couldn't do Yuuta and An yet, so Atobe works for now. Inspired by "I Hate It" by Ellegarden.

Also, I'm not too sure what kind of unrequitedness this is. I guess you could call it forced unrequitedness. From which side? I don't know. Up to you. It's free for interpretation.

There're lots of double meanings in this one – in some of the lines.

I'd like to thank analine, Risa-Chan, Bloodblade, and RoYale for their reviews and support.


	7. Part Seven

**Part Seven**

"The bride's arriving soon!"

The announcement sparked off excited whispers but the noise of the crowd died down in anticipation of the bride's arrival. He'd been silent all the while, and he did not bother to whisper excitedly at all.

"They'll look so perfect together."

"Remember how she used to hate him when they were teenagers?"

"It's such a perfect love story!"

_Yeah, it is, isn't it? _he thought dully.

The cameramen were taking up positions all around the hall, running around frantically to get the best spot.

_Why am I here anyway? _

He knew he could have turned down the invitation. Just…not turn up at all. He even thought he would, when he'd gotten up that morning.

Was he a masochist or something? Or was the whole affair so hard to believe that he had to be there just to witness the exchange of vows with his own eyes?

Well, whatever it was, it sure was a damned blasted thing that he couldn't run out of the door now.

The door opened.

Everyone turned and oohed.

It was the last thing he wanted to see – her in her wedding dress, and him a guest out of the several thousand. But he did not want to draw attention to himself, to be the only one not to follow her journey down the aisle, and so he turned and forced himself to look at her.

His chest hurt, but he forced himself to take in every inch of her, as if he was forcing his senses to believe that by the end of the day, she would belong to someone else, and he would have lost his chance forever – not that he ever had one.

It didn't hurt any less when she walked past him. It didn't hurt more either.

But it hurt like hell.

At one point in time he had to suck in his breath as violently as he dared without arousing suspicion, just to convince himself that his heart was functioning.

He forced himself to listen to every word of the ceremony. Let it sink in his goddamned brain, dammit, and then maybe he would get over her.

_Get a grip. You're nothing compared to him. He's rich, good-looking, a pro tennis player, charming, and he even has a bloody mole. The whole country knows who he is._

_Some of my so-called friends can't even be bothered enough to remember my name. I'm not even significant enough to have an identity other than that of my brother's shadow._

He felt sick, nauseous even, when the couple made their way out of the church to the waiting limo outside, the smiling bride in her smirking husband's arms.

But it wasn't to say that the feeling was unfamiliar to him. That was always what he had been, after all – the guy on the sidelines. That was how it had been for the last ten years - from the day he laid eyes on her, to the day he knew he had fallen for her, and it wouldn't even stop on the day she no longer became Tachibana An.

He didn't want to ponder what he'd been wondering all these years – would things have changed if he'd tried to do something? Anything at all?

But as he stared after the wake of the film stars and tennis pros and journalists – his auburn-haired brother being one of the latter - chasing after the newlyweds, it hurt less to think that he couldn't have possibly made a difference.

owari

A/N: To tell you the truth, I've been sooo aching to write this. But I just got scared off because Yuuta and An could be possibly one of the most improbable pairings in this whole fandom. So I tossed out what was the previous chapter. (Yep. Not so unrequited. Rather the potential for unrequitedness.)

But I got encouraged by Risa-chan (thanks!) and also this song.

_Somewhere closer I can hear the wedding bell  
It's a fine day I am wearing a blue shirt like the sky  
I am standing in the line while holding confetti  
I see the girl of my dream is shining like the sun beside him_

Won't you marry me if I could be a rich boy  
Won't you marry me if I could be very handsome  
Won't you marry me if I could be a tall guy  
Don't you marry him if I could be in the next life

_-Marry Me, Ellegarden_

I wrote this with the aim of capturing what is the most realistic and common in life. (After all, the kind of requitedness I always suffer from is the kind where I don't do anything at all. Who dares to?) I wasn't trying to go for anything symbolic, or Hollywood, or dramatic. Just something that I could relate to.

And to end it off, thank you Risa-chan, RoYale and Aeris.


	8. Part Eight

"Yoo, Atsushi, da ne," Yanagisawa drawled as he leaned against the doorway of the dorm. "Let's go to the street courts today da ne."

If Yuuta had any reaction to that invitation, he hid it well as he shoved away the latest delivery of fresh laundry.

"Yuuta-kun's coming along with us da ne, aren't you Yuuta-kun?"

"Hn," he answered non-commitally. He was usually up for a visit to the street tennis courts – any practice was good. But he didn't want to seem to enthusiastic either. It might attract unwanted (but truly deserved) suspicion.

"If you come along with us, we can do doubles against Mizuki and Yuuta-kun da ne. Come on, Atsushi," and Yuuta marveled at the persistent person that was Yanagisawa Shinya.

"I've got too much schoolwork," Kisarazu grumbled, but eventually logic won over, and the four made their way to the street tennis courts.

"Yuuta-kun, does your brother go to the street tennis courts often?" Mizuki suddenly asked.

Yuuta wasn't surprised that Mizuki had asked this question. He was developing a rather unhealthy obsession with his aniki. But it wasn't his business and who cared? As long as Mizuki still helped him to become a better player. And as long as their relationship status remained as Rivals Only.

In response to his question, Yuuta shrugged. "Not too frequent, I guess." _Not as frequent as someone else, anyway._

"Damn, da ne," Yanagisawa cursed when they reached. "There're lots of people today da ne."

Yuuta had to agree with him, and part of him was disappointed that they might not be able to find a court easily. But the other part of him jumped for joy. At least, as much as he would let it.

After all, full courts nearly always meant that she would be there as well.

"Do you think we should just go?" Mizuki said impatiently. After all, if Fuji Shuusuke didn't go to the street tennis courts often, it probably meant he wouldn't be there.

_Waaaait a second. _"Come on, we've come all the way over here and we're just going to give up? I'm sure we can find a court somewhere." Yuuta tried not to sound too foul over the idea of leaving. It was perfectly true, anyway. St Rudolph wasn't exactly near this place.

"He's right," Atsushi said. "Now you've dragged me all the way here, we might as well fight for a court."

"That's right," an unfamiliar voice spoke up. "If you're planning to use a court, you have to challenge someone who's playing. And it's doubles only."

The four boys turned. "Heyy, it's you da ne!" Yanagisawa exclaimed in glee. "The cute one from last time."

The petite girl smiled happily. "Thank you!"

Yuuta summoned all his willpower to repel the blood rushing to his cheeks.

"Well, doubles isn't a problem for us," Mizuki declared. "St. Rudolph's doubles one pair is right here."

"That's right, da ne! Say, if we win, would you go out with me da ne?"

She laughed. "Thanks, I'm flattered. But I can't."

"Aww, da ne," Yanagisawa moaned as they five of them moved off to find a doubles pair to challenge. "Are you already attached da ne?"

Yuuta's heartbeat jumped up so quickly that he almost choked.

"Well, not technically, but Kamio-kun scares off everyone who tries to-"

_Kamio. That rhythm guy. The one who keeps yelling. In fact, I think I can hear him from here-_

"Aww, that's too bad da ne," Yanagisawa pitied himself amongst the other guys who had tried to ask An out and failed.

They soon found a court to challenge.

"Watch us! Da ne."

Yuuta followed Mizuki to a bench nearby and sat down next to Mizuki.

_She _sat down with them.

Now, given the circumstances, Yuuta technically should have been jumping for joy. After all, this was the scene he'd always dreamed of – he and his friends coming to the street courts, she being there, she approaching him and he would ultimately be cool and irresistible, and-

"I've never seen those guys before."

So Mizuki didn't appear in his dream scenario, but it made things better. If it had been only him and her, he mused, he would have …collapsed? No. But he wasn't exactly the smooth talker Mizuki was, so having Mizuki around calmed him down. Although he would not exactly call himself calm right then.

"Oh, they're from a neighbourhood school around here. They always come around to play because their school doesn't have an official tennis club."

"So you know all these people?"

"Yeah."

Yuuta wished he had been born with the gift of talking to girls without making a twit of himself.

"Oi! Mizuki!" An unfamiliar person waved over from the next court.

Mizuki lifted his hand in acknowledgement, and as fast as lightning, he was gone.

_OhGodOhGodOhGod._

Yuuta cursed Mizuki's acquaintance from the bottom of his heart.

_What am I going to say? If I say something, it'll come out totally dorky and she'll be repulsed by me forever. If I don't say anything, I'll come off as unfriendly and she'll never talk to us again. She'll think I'm this antisocial-_

"Fuji Yuuta, right?" She smiled at him.

_She called me by my name. _

Yuuta was so flooded by relief that she had started the conversation that he knew he wouldn't have given a damn if she'd said "Fuji no otouto, right?" but he felt his spirits soar, all the same. She had remembered his name.

"Thanks," he blurted out, and was immediately docked over by how stupid his reply had been. "I mean, for calling me by my name." _Shit. I sound stupider and stupider. _

She laughed. "I get what you're trying to say. I get irritated by people who keep calling me Tachibana-imouto as well."

Yuuta smiled slightly. His chest had stopped thumping. Maybe this would work, after all.

"So…Tachibana An, right?" He was hit over by how lame it sounded, but it fit into the flow of the conversation at least.

"I go by An-chan. Hey, good one!" she applauded the Yanagisawa-Kisarazu pair who had scored a point on the line.

"We'll get this court in no time, Yuuta-kun, da ne!" Yanagisawa boasted.

An giggled. "He's funny, isn't he?" she commented.

Yuuta nodded. "Yeah he is." _As flaky as Yanagisawa is, even An remembers him, 'cos he's funny._

He racked his brains for something else to say when things fell silent. He glanced at her for a fraction of a second, and found her concentrating on the game. _Talk tennis._

But nobody chose to do anything spectacular, and once again Yuuta was left with nothing to say.

"They're not very flashy, aren't they," An suddenly said.

Yuuta was once again relieved. "No, they're not," he admitted. "Not like Seigaku's doubles one, or Rikkai's. But they work well together, and they're a stable pair with good individual abilities."

"Don't you play doubles, Fuji-san?"

"Yeah, occasionally," he answered, "but I don't have the knack for it. I guess I'm just trying to make my singles game better."

An smiled sweetly. "I think you're a really good southpaw."

Yuuta felt his stomach contort in a mixure of happiness, pride and nervousness. But he smiled. "Thank you."

"An-chan! Your brother's here!"

"Oh!" She stood up and turned to Yuuta, offering a hand. Somewhat dazed by the sudden and unwelcome interruption, Yuuta took it.

An shook it firmly, almost comically. "Well, it was nice to talk to you, Fuji Yuuta-san," she said seriously. Then she smiled sweetly again. "You should smile more. You'd be surprised at the number of hearts you may break."

Something about Yuuta's expression must have been rather interesting, for she laughed and then was gone, a figure clad in purple and white.

Yuuta pinched himself. It hurt.

Did he just dream it, or did she just say something along the lines of "I think you're good-looking?"

It left him in a stupor such that he did not hear his schoolmates cheer over their victory.

"Oi! Yuuta! Come on, let's play! Where's Mizuki!"

Atsushi's yell brought him out of his reverie, but he did not snap entirely out of it either. He walked to the other end of the court they had walked, absently spinning his racket as he did.

"Saw you talking with the kawaii girl, da ne," Yanagisawa said teasingly. "Say, you're not trying to steal her away from me, are you?"

Yuuta flinched. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on," Kisarazu said in Yuuta's defense. "She's a naturally friendly girl. Everyone who plays in the street courts knows her. Just because she talks to Yuuta doesn't mean anything."

"Sorry guys," Mizuki came running up, "old friend."

As they spun rackets, Yuuta glanced at the other far end of the whole lot of courts. She was talking to someone else.

_Atsushi's right. She's naturally friendly. She probably wanted to lighten up the mood, or something._

"Let's place a bet, da ne," Yanagisawa suggested. "It makes things more interesting."

_I don't stand out. I'm not funny like Yanagisawa. Or good-looking like Atsushi. I'm just another guy who wants to use the street tennis courts. _

"That's dumb. You're obviously betting on yourself."

"Bye, Fuji Yuuta-san!"

Yuuta turned, surprised that she had yelled goodbye over three tennis courts. She waved, and he waved back.

_She was just being friendly, _he tried to explain it to himself.

But she hadn't yelled goodbye to anyone else.

_It doesn't mean anything, _he thought forcefully. _She was just being friendly. We just had a conversation. It was only polite. _

"Atsushi, you serve, da ne."

_It's not worth the humiliation and embarrassment to find out if it means anything at all._

He turned his attention back to the game.

_But the street tennis courts is a good place to hang out, as long as she's still around._

owari

A/N: This is, in my opinion, the most boring unrequited one. But it's what most of us suffer from. Unrequited because we're way too afraid to find out for sure, because of the fear of rejection, and we hang on by a thread hoping for more signs, but we never get the courage to do anything about it.

And yeah, I didn't originally intend it to be this way, but you can take it as a companion piece to the previous chapter.


End file.
